


thanks for the meal

by fxhound



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Humor, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Unresolved Sexual Tension, special guest: kolivan, they're very horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 18:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17371547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fxhound/pseuds/fxhound
Summary: Keith just wants to eat his boyfriend's ass on his day off.Or, Keith's got a little oral fixation.





	thanks for the meal

In one hand, Keith can count the number of things he really and truly appreciate in life at the moment. Excluding spending time with a ragtag and more than a little odd set of people he considers family, he appreciates the abundant supply of bacon in the fridge courtesy of Hunk. Always fresh, always crispy. He also appreciates Kaltenecker for the unlimited supply of milk. Fresh dairy, fresh butter. What can he say, he’s now just a simple guy with simple needs. He likes delicious things in his mouth. 

Keith yawns, stretches on the bed. The dull sound of the shower running in the bathroom tries to lull him back to sleep but he resists it. It’s probably too late for breakfast and his stomach grumbles slightly. 

Finally, Shiro steps out not a moment too soon, steam following him from behind. His hair’s still wet and he’s got a small towel wrapped around his tiny waist.

“G’morning,” Shiro says, walking over to him.

Keith smiles and reaches up to kiss his lover. He loves their morning kisses. It always lingers at the end, like they’re hesitant to end it, even when they’ve both got busy schedules lined up. Instead of letting go this morning though, he pulls Shiro on top of him. Shiro topples over, laughing. He’s obviously in a good mood, which makes Keith grin. He loves making Shiro laugh even more.  

“Morning.”

“It’s late. You’ve got that meeting soon.” Shiro mumbles against his lips. He’s clearly just shaved, his jaw smooth. Keith trails a kiss there, and then down, down, down until he’s sucking at the delicate skin of Shiro’s neck. He buries his nose and inhales. He couldn’t keep the groan down because Shiro smells fucking fantastic. Woodsy with just a hint of musk.

“Hmmm,” Keith hums, cock twitching in interest. 

Shiro just laughs fondly on top of him, shifting so his own cock’s an apparent weight on the side of Keith’s thigh. He’s half hard already, Keith notes. Shiro’s rocking his hips slightly, small towel slipping on his lean, muscular body, their legs tangling on one another. He’s stretching languidly on top of Keith like some sculpture of a God. Skin hot and flushing endearingly. Perfect in every way.

Keith grabs a handful of round, pert ass and pulls down. They both groan at the friction as their cocks slide together, forgotten towel dropping to the floor. He looks up and they both stare at each other heatedly. Shiro’s pupils are starting to blow, his lips red from biting. He looks amazing, Keith thinks. It would be so easy to flip him over and _take._ Lick, bite, grind. Harder and harder until they’re both a mess. His cock hurts just thinking about last night. Shiro’s probably still loose.

So really, it’s with great damn shame that he has a meeting coming up very soon. In fact he’s probably gonna be late if he doesn’t start moving.

Tracing his fingertips along the scope of Shiro’s smooth skin— from the curve of his ass, up and down to his dipped lower back and over to his strong shoulder blades and then finally settling to cup his delicate nape— just to watch him shiver with arousal, Keith laments his choices, closing his eyes. Maybe he can reschedule the damn meeting. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. 

No, no. He and Kolivan has been planning this meeting for weeks now. He needs to be a responsible leader. He can’t let his libido tell him what to do.

“Keith…” Shiro murmurs against his ear, breathy, making him hot all over. “Your meeting…” he admonishes, even as he presses his pelvic down. 

Fuck it. 

“Fuck it.” Keith says, as he cants his head up, ready to capture those pouty lips again when—

_Diiiing—dong._

They both stop moving, lips inches apart. Shiro’s eyes slightly bulge out and it would’ve been a funny thing if Keith wasn’t feeling like punching something hard—which, he was. Very much so.

He sighs loudly. He lets his head flop back down on the pillow. Shiro’s already standing up, picking up his discarded towel and hiding away his very much still hard cock. The little towel does a valiant attempt but it doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Shiro’s hard cock lines the soft material, and there’s something indecent about not being able to see it fully but knowing it’s there and just having a glimpse of it. It’s not even sheer…but isn’t that an image. Shiro in nothing but sheer underwear. Maybe even in sheer stockings… wrapping his thick thighs, bursting at the seams. Keith’s mouth floods.

As if reading his thoughts, Shiro gives him a smirk. “Keep it in your pants,” this cheeky one says. 

Keith gives him a leering look, which earns him a deep blush for his trouble. He sits up just so he can pinch that plump butt. 

Shiro slaps his creeping hand away, but he’s laughing. All sunshine and beautiful like no other. Keith loves seeing him like this, happy and alive with vigor. “Come here—” he starts to say when—

_Diiiing—dong._

A pause, then:

_Diiiing—dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong-ding-dong-DING—_

“Coming!” Shiro calls, pulling away. He starts putting on clothes to Keith’s dismay. “That’s probably Lance, if the incessant ringing means anything. He did say he was stopping by for something.” He says, muffled, as he pulls down his sweater. “Just a tick!”

Keith might commit one (1) murder today.

Might as well stand up and get his day going. He frowns down as his wilting cock forlornly settles back down inside his joggers. Shiro’s already dressed, as efficient as ever. And then he bends down, swear to God bends over, to pick up that damn little towel again where it’s slipped from his grasp. Keith gives himself a second to admire the view that the universe has graciously bestowed upon him. 

And then he slides over. Slotting the hard line of his revived cock against Shiro’s ass, relishing in the surprise moan that he receives, he grips those slim hips harder than necessary. 

Shiro pushes his ass back as he slowly straightens up until their chest to back, painting a beautiful curve of his spine. They both shudder at the touch. 

Keith traces one hand from Shiro’s hip through his hard stomach and up his profound chest where two nipples are hard against the material of his sweater. He rubs one of the nubs between his fingers, twisting and pinching. God, he can’t get enough of Shiro’s body. It’s almost a vice.  

The doorbell rings again. Shiro’s blushing all the way down his neck. Embarrassed, maybe, knowing someone is just a few feet outside their door. But he doesn’t step away, either. “Keith—”

Keith tightens his embrace. Really, someone should probably check his head. Even with Shiro flushed against his body, he just can’t get enough. He hooks his chin over one shoulder. 

“See you during lunch time, Captain.” he says softly.

Goosebumps rise against Shiro’s taut skin. Keith just stands there, willing his body not to move an inch, as Shiro almost mindlessly rubs his ass against Keith’s erection. He should get a medal for this or something. A trophy, definitely.

Shiro looks back at Keith over his own shoulder when Keith finally steps back, eyes glossed over. He’s a wreck, Keith thinks, _and I did that._

“We’re not done yet,” he adds.

//

Keith’s only a few doboshes late which, considering it was technically his day off, he can forgive himself for. 

He jogs over to where he sees Kolivan waiting and nods in greeting. Turns out the other party still hasn’t arrived yet so he takes the opportunity to braid his hair efficiently since he didn’t have enough time to do it awhile ago. All things considered. 

Kolivan regards him quietly, longer than he usually does. 

“What is it?” Keith asks. 

“How is the Captain of the Atlas?” 

“Uh—he’s good. Yeah. He’s got the day off so he’s at home. Why?”  

No response. There are no other words for it but _contemplation of the highest degree_ , as the other Galra blatantly stares him down from his considerable height. Consciously, Keith raises a hand to wipe at his face, the nervous thought of having a large dried nasal mucus dreading him. 

But nothing of the sort falls out. Shiro does say he always puts a ‘hideous amount’ of mustard on his sandwiches. _Was that it? Was there still mustard on my face?_

Before he can demand the answer, Kolivan looks away. Keith can almost feel the small relief whoosh out of him, though he’ll die before he let’s it show. Soon enough, they spot a group of Olkari walking towards them. Thank God.

He starts walking towards their guests when Kolivan stops him with a hand to the shoulder. They stare at each other for an awkward amount of time before Kolivan nods his head solemnly. As if a mutual understanding was reached. 

“Sometimes, the greatest challenge is knowing when to stop.” Kolivan says before walking away.

In lack of a better reply—or any reply at all—Keith just nods, completely bewildered and not a little bit confused while, at the same time, comprehending the thought wholly.

//

The meeting lasts longer than Keith expected so it was such a relief to open the door of their house and smell a delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen. He walks over to the direction of the source in a daze, his mouth watering.

Keith almost trips over his own feet at the sight of Shiro. He’s wearing a red apron that Keith was pretty sure they didn’t own before.

“Ah you’re back. The sauce is almost done. I just need to boil the pasta,” Shiro says, pulling off his earphones. 

The apron stares back at Keith. ’Kiss the Cook!’ it says.

Okay. Alright. So he wasn’t an expert on the kitchen _or_ the fashion department but he’s seen an apron before. And this— _piece of cloth—_ is decidedly… not one. It’s barely covering Shiro’s pecs, looking like a reverse bra all things considered, and what’s the point of it if it wasn’t for that? It’s also too short on him, barely covering where his bits are, looking like a half-cut parody of a mini skirt. 

It shouldn’t be this provoking. Shiro catches him staring.

“Oh,” he looks down like he’s just realizing what he’s wearing, “this? Lance gave it to me this morning. Apparently his _abuela_ makes them so he’s got a bunch of these,” he says, flapping the cloth around, unknowingly flashing Keith that he’s wearing nothing but the sweater he had wearing this morning and a pair of black, tight boxer briefs.

And, to Keith’s dismay, he turns around. 

“You’re probably hungry.” Shiro continues say, as starts messing about in the kitchen again, humming to himself, completely unaware of Keith’s new dilemma in life. The offending cloth, as if to compensate for its lack of coverage in the front, is crisscrossed complicatedly in the back. The red waist ties looks like an intricate structure of diamond-pattern across Shiro’s broad back. It looks like a red web. Keith doesn’t even know if Shiro’s aware of it. His throat dries up. There’s a tiny bow at the bottom, just above the swell of Shiro’s ass.

Well. ‘Kiss the Cook’, wasn’t it?

 Keith slides up right behind Shiro, encircling those slim waist. Shiro leans back to him. 

 “It’s almost done,” his lover murmurs sweetly. He’s so sweet. Like a balm to Keith’s cuts and bruises. Keith just wants to bury his face into his neck. He kisses that tender skin just where the shoulder meets the neck, loving the sweeter moan that escapes those lips.

Shiro looks back at him over his shoulder, much like how he did just this morning, his eyes heated. Keith leans over and finally, _finally_ their lips meet. 

It’s something soft, and Keith likes those too. Tender, almost, like they’ve got all the time in the world. Just lips against lips with their breath ghosting in between when they part.

“Hmmm…” Keith hums. He pulls away slightly. He’s not rushing. He wants to savor this. Shiro tries to follow the kiss, pouty lips puckered endearingly.

“Kiss me,” he says. 

And who is Keith to say no to that?

Keith leans forward again, this time with purpose. He brings up one hand to grab Shiro’s jaw and angle him just right so their mouths slot perfectly together. The other hand pushes the button that turns off the heat on the stove, the bubbling hot water immediately dying. 

Shiro moans, opening his mouth slightly, and it’s all Keith needs to push his tongue right in. They tease and twists against one another, making heat boil up inside Keith’s core. He pulls back just to see Shiro’s eyes shrouded in arousal, sears that look in his brain forever. 

Keith pulls on one shoulder so they’re facing each other. He doesn’t wait before kissing those red lips again. He’s been patiently waiting all day.

“ _Hah… mmhm”_ Shiro moans. It’s a symphony Keith uses to guide himself. He’s been training himself for a long time and he knows how to make it louder and higher or lower and deeper by now. He pushes his tongue in, flicks it this way and that, slow and delicious. By the end of it, they’re both panting for breath, cocks hard against their thighs. He pushes his body between Shiro’s thighs and Shiro automatically spreads it wider. 

Nestled comfortably, the hard lines of their cocks brush each other. Keith sighs, content at the moment. 

Shiro regards Keith adoringly, brushing Keith’s hair with his fingers. Keith’s eyes roll back at _how good_ it feels, just for those hands to be on him.

With his own fingertips, Keith maps the complicated pattern of the apron behind his lover’s back while he places a trail of kisses from under the jaw all the way to the crook of the neck. He mouths the skin there, grazing it with his teeth without biting, as he pulls on a random tie. 

“Hnng— _oh_ ” Shiro lets out a small breath like he’s been squeezed. 

“How did you even tie this?” Keith murmurs.

“Hm?”

“Nevermind.” 

Keith resumes kissing that taut flesh, leaving a mark. He pulls on a random tie again and was rewarded with another soft moan. Unbelievable, really. Knowing Shiro, he probably honest to God wasn’t aware that he looks like a fucking masterpiece right now. Well, even more so than usual. Keith never expected to see these red ties crisscrossing Shiro’s body in such an artistic nature and be so completely _turned on._ His cock is aching at the thought of pulling… tight. Gripping hard. 

But Keith knows what Shiro wants right now. 

Keith lets his hands wander lower and lower, going under that waistband, until he’s cupping Shiro’s pert ass. He squeezes it, feeling them flex in his hands, before digging his fingers slightly on the cleft and spreading it apart. Shiro immediately pushes back, his head lolling to the side so they can make eye contact. Keith licks his own lips, already excited. 

“Turn around,” he tells Shiro.

“Yeah?”

As answer, he pushes Shiro over to the island counter. With a quick swipe, he pushes the other dry ingredients and they roll over to the floor disregarded. He hears Shiro say his name but it’s quiet enough that he just opts to ignore it.

Keith bends Shiro in half over the counter, pushing between his shoulder blades. He grabs both of Shiro’s hands, which were braced on either side of his face, and slides them up over his head. They’re touching everywhere, warm skin igniting each other faster. 

“Okay?” Keith whispers behind Shiro’s ear. He nudges Shiro’s feet farther apart with his own feet.

Shiro just nods. He’s breathing hard already. He looks absolutely delicious like this, bent over and gasping. Keith rubs the line of his cock against Shiro’s ass, the bulge catching on the material of Shiro’s thin boxer briefs. It’s indecent. They both moan at the contact, grinding against each other harder. 

Panting, Keith slides that tight black boxer briefs down as far as it can go with Shiro’s thighs spread wide. It doesn’t go that much but it’s enough to expose him in the air, giving Keith view of a puckered little hole. 

Mouth watering, Keith kneels down. 

“Ohh—” Shiro sighs just as Keith licks a long stripe. He licks at the hole again, pleasantly unsurprised to see it clean. He’ll tease Shiro about it later. Right now he’s got business to attend to. 

Keith spits into Shiro’s asshole, watching it wink back at him. A tight little thing, and yet he’s seen it take his cock so many times. Keith dives back in, licking at the furl, teasing. 

“Oh my god—” Shiro grunts, pressing back.

Keith grabs Shiro’s hips, holding him steady. He flatten his tongue and laps at it like a dog. One hand grabs Shiro’s balls, tugs and plays with it. 

“Don’t come without my permission.” he says softly.

God he loves seeing Shiro like this. Begging, pushing back against his face, trying to chase his own pleasure. Keith points his tongue and it goes in with a persistent thrust. He half listens to Shiro’s voice— a chorus of _oh, oh, oh—_ and eats his fill. Nipping, sucking, he flicks his tongue up and down, left and right, inside Shiro’s hole. It was so warm, so good. Shiro is so good.

Keith pulls back, saliva dripping down his chin. Shiro’s hole was a mess of it’s own, spit dripping down inside his thigh. Proud of his work, he spreads a cheek with one hand while the other pushes Shiro’s lower back down. 

“Do you wanna come like this?” he asks, petting Shiro’s ass.

“Keith…” Shiro says quietly, looking back down at him over his shoulder. His face was endearingly red, chest heaving up and down. Embarrassed. But aroused even more so. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Keith murmurs as he pushes his face between Shiro’s asscheeks once more. This time, he doesn’t have any trouble thrusting his entire tongue in, loving the way Shiro’s already loose for him. He pulls out and pushes two fingers in, hearing Shiro gasp, before he twists them around. He crisscross them as he pulls out, stretching the rim wide apart. He thrusts them again, all the way to the knuckle, before pulling back out. He makes a V at the rim and pushes his tongue in between where he thrusts it in and out as fast as he can. 

Keith slides the hand holding Shiro’s lower back down and grabs Shiro’s cock where’s it’s been dripping a stream of precome. It makes a thin trail on the counter to his dick and Shiro’s probably gonna murder him later for that but he’ll take the punishment. 

Shiro stars bucking his hips back and forth, totally mindless, as he fucks himself on Keith’s tongue and fingers. Keith closes his fists around Shiro’s cock in just the right pressure, if not a little harder than usual.

“ _Ahh—! Oh, oh, Keith!”_ Shiro moans. Keith’s cock ache between his own thighs, trapped between his BOM uniform. The pressure of the material feels good.

With a shove of his fingers all the way in, nudging that bundle of nerves deep inside, Shiro comes with a shout, thrusting his cock in Keith’s grip and fucking himself back in Keith’s finger. Prodding, Keith leaves his fingers inside and enjoys the shivers that wracked Shiro’s body. 

When he finally stands up, Shiro’s a puddle shape like a man in the counter, completely sated and boneless. The zip of a zipper going down sounds loud in the quiet kitchen. Keith leans over, covering Shiro’s body with his own. 

“You did so good,” Keith whispers as he lines himself up, the head of his cock already leaking, and pushes past that tight right of muscle and up to the hilt in mere moments. Shiro shudders underneath him.

Keith grinds down once, before he starts pumping his hips. He straightens up, his eyes catching on the red apron tied around Shiro’s body, bunching up on the waist every time he thrusts in. Shiro’s body is pliant underneath him save for his breathy little _ah, ah, ah_ every time Keith pounds his hole with his cock. 

It indescribable, the feeling of being this close and intimate with some you love and cherish. Shiro tries to squeeze his hole every other thrust, and Keith can feel the build in his belly from the constriction. “C’mon Keith— come for me— _ah_ ” he urges, reaching back to loosely place a hand on Keith’s moving hips.

With effort, Keith grabs Shiro’s hips with both hands, driving his cock faster and faster, chasing the release building up— _so close— God,_ he thinks, as he looks down, watching his hard cock split Shiro’s swollen rim, disappearing inside. He starts pulling back Shiro’s body to meet his vigorous thrusts, watching as those perfectly round ass bounce with each push. He closes his eyes, listens to the constant slap of their skin echo in the quiet of the kitchen, how Shiro’s moaning in a higher pitch now as Keith dives the tip of his cock over his abused prostate.

Keith bites his lips, opens his eyes, and sees Shiro looking back at him, pouty mouth open in a small _oh—_ he plunges in and shudders his release, groaning deep from his throat. He feels himself squirting his come inside Shiro’s channel, emptying himself. Shiro closes his eyes and shudders at the sensation. 

Tiredly, Keith grinds his hips in slow, circular motion, aware of how sensitive it must be for Shiro, as he rides his own release. The squelch of his come inside an indecent sound, a background reminder of what they just did. His knees were shaking.

After they’ve both come down from it, Keith leans over and kisses Shiro’s cheek before pulling out slowly and helping him stand up. 

“Good?” he asks, as he cleans Shiro up with the red apron he ran through the faucet (after pulling it off like a t-shirt because there was no way to untie that).

“Are you kidding,” Shiro answers, laughing softly. He wraps his arms around Keith and gives him a peck. “Wow.”

Beaming, Keith leans in for another kiss when—

ggggggggrrrrrRRRRRRRRrr

In unison, they both look down at Keith’s belly. It emits another inhuman sound.

Without any remorse for Keith’s pride, Shiro howls a laughter so strong and loud he starts clutching at his sides.

Keith can’t even get mad.

**Author's Note:**

> if you guys remember Kolivan actually does say that line in the show lol


End file.
